Harry Potter: Art of War
by IAmSwoofie
Summary: With Voldemort's return, the end of 4th year goes in a different direction as Dumbledore, with the help of a few old friends, offers Harry the chance to train and prepare for the inevitable showdown between him and Tom. AU H/HR pairing. T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

Hello there! Yes, I know, I'm starting yet ANOTHER story while I still have a long one in the works, but this is more of a side-project and will not be held to a timeline like my other story. I will update when I can and when I feel like it, and I'm hoping that you'll all bear with me. For those of you that follow my other story, _Hybrid_, I'm still working on that chapter and will have it up for you to enjoy sometime on Sunday. So for now, enjoy my new one!

**Summary**: Takes place at the end of 4th year, after Harry returns from the graveyard and is rescued from the Mad-Eye Moody imposter. He and Dumbledore are left to talk things over and Harry is given the chance to prepare for Voldemort's return to power.

**Disclaimer** (applies to any and all chapters that follow): I do not own the Harry Potter series and any settings or characters that are associated with it. It belongs solely to Joanne "Jo" Rowling, or most commonly known as JK Rowling. I seek no profit from writing this story.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

"I'll do it."

Dumbledore peered down at the boy from behind his half-moon spectacles, leaning back in his chair as he thoughtfully contemplated his answer. Stroking his long, white beard in thought, he wondered if this was truly the right thing to do. But Harry had agreed to it, and so, with the decision made, the only option left was to go along with it and move things forward. Nodding his head, the Headmaster pulled out a small scrap of parchment and quickly scribbled a note with his quill. Folding it neatly he handed it to Fawkes who squawked loudly disappeared in a burst of flame.

"Harry, I'm going to ask you to return to your dormitory and clean up. Perhaps stop by the kitchens for a bite to eat as well and then come back. By then I should have everything prepared."

Pushing himself up and out of his seat, the young Gryffindor nodded and turned to walk away when Dumbledore called out for him once more. "Harry."

"Yes, Professor?"

"It is imperative to our new plans that you tell absolutely no one what we discussed here," he said, his tone of voice expressing just how important it was that things be kept secret.

"I understand, sir," replied Harry with a nod. When nothing else was said, he took that as his cue to leave and departed, walking out the door and down the stone steps that led to the gargoyle guarded entrance.

Ignoring the many stares and whispers of other students, Harry quickly trekked through the halls of Hogwarts towards the Gryffindor tower. As he approached the painting of the Fat Lady, he uttered the password and made his way through the opening the instant he could fit through, not bothering to wait until she had fully opened. The once loud common room, abuzz with excited chatter, went silent as he stepped through and the house of Gryffindor watched as their hero and housemate strode quietly past everyone and up the stairs to his own dorm room. Behind him, he could hear the hurried footsteps as his two best friends followed.

"Harry!" cried Hermione, hoping to gain his attention. But her raven haired friend had his mind set on something else and brushed her off, going through his trunk as he grabbed a towel and fresh set of clothing.

"Harry, mate, talk to us," said Ron, as he and Hermione stood by the door and watched him gather his things. As Harry walked into the bathroom, Hermione pushed him to follow and he walked in after him.

Walking into one of the shower stalls, Harry continued to ignore Ron and closed the curtain, stripping off and placing his clothes and towel on a rack. Turning on the shower, he waited a few seconds for the water to warm up before stepping beneath the soft spray. He let out a quiet groan of satisfaction as the warm water cascaded down his body, instantly relaxing his tense and sore muscles. Wiping the water from his face, he reached and grabbed for the bottle of shampoo he had also brought along and quickly washed his hair. Repeating the process with the conditioner and then lathering himself with soap, Harry finished his shower with a rinse and shut off the valve.

Toweling off, he changed into the clean pair of clothes he'd set aside—faded and worn blue jeans and a plain red tee—and pulled back the curtains, feeling much more refreshed and less tense than he had before. Ron was no longer inside the bathroom, and so, believing that he and Hermione had backed off for now, walked back into the bedroom. Instead of being alone, however, he found his two friends sitting side by side on Ron's bed, staring at the bathroom door as they waited somewhat patiently for his return.

"Harry, please talk to us," pleaded Hermione, standing up as he threw his dirty clothes into the laundry basket and re-opened his trunk, pushing random books and trinkets aside as he searched for something. "You need to talk," she continued, moving to stand beside him. "You just went through a terrible ordeal; witnessing Cedric getting murdered and then V-Voldemort's resurrection…you can't just push us away! I know that, even if you're not showing it, it's troubling you so badly inside. Let us help you!"

Harry stood up and faced her, the Marauders' Map in one hand and his invisibility cloak in the other. Before she could even begin to ask him why he had taken those out, she was immediately silenced as he pressed a quick, but gentle kiss to her lips. "I should have asked you to the Yule Ball first," he whispered. "Take care, both of you."

With Ron and especially Hermione too stunned by his words and actions, Harry threw the cloak over his head and stuffed the map into his pocket, swiftly exiting the dormitory before they could react. As he followed a pair of sixth years out the portrait hole, he heard Hermione yell out his name and hastily descend the stairs, catching a flash of her bushy brown mane as he disappeared out the door. A small pang of guilt tore at his heart but he ignored it for the moment.

Thankful to be hidden from unwanted eyes, Harry made his way towards the kitchens and tickled the image of the pear, which giggled before morphing into a door handle. Grasping the handle, he pulled open the portrait and stepped into the kitchens, pulling off his cloak in the process. He was instantaneously swarmed by a sea of House Elves, who jumped up and down excitedly, elated at the prospect of serving a student. Asking politely for something to eat, he was quickly ushered to a counter and seated on a wooden stool, the elves rushing back and forth in their haste to please him. A short five minutes later, Harry was tucking into a steaming hot plate of mashed potatoes with gravy, sliced chicken breast, steamed green beans and a hot buttered roll, finding himself much more famished than he originally thought. After assuring the eager elves that he had plenty to eat and that he would not hesitate to ask for more, he chewed on a forkful of chicken and potatoes as he pulled out the map and looked it over.

He smiled, half sad, half amused as he watched Ron and Hermione rush through the castle, their dots speeding up towards the Owlery, no doubt in search of him. He let out a soft sigh as the thought about what he was going to do, but it was for the best he reasoned. After the day's events and especially after all he'd been through in the past four years at Hogwarts, he felt as if he really had no other choice in the matter. Well no, he _did_ have other choices, but out of them all, this one seemed like the most appropriate thing to do.

Looking towards Professor Dumbledore's office, he was surprised to see the names of two very familiar people. His interest and curiosity piqued, he wolfed down the remaining food on his plate and washed it down with a cool goblet of pumpkin juice. As he stood, the elves swarmed him once more and he was only allowed to leave after a large brown bag of sweets and baked treats were forced into his hand. Smiling and thanking the tiny creatures for their warmth and hospitality, he made a show of biting into one of the cookies to appease their eagerness at serving him before disappearing beneath the cloak once more.

Reaching the stone gargoyle, he looked around to see if the coast was clear and pulled off the cloak as he said the password. Walking up the steps leading to the Headmaster's office, he knocked on the heavy wooden door and waited to be let in. Only a second or two later, it creaked open.

"It's good to see you Harry," said Sirius, pulling open the door.

Harry smiled and launched himself into his godfather's arms, who wrapped the younger man in a tight hug. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily and Remus, who was standing off to the side, grinned as they watched the two reunited. "I've missed you," he said sheepishly, as they pulled apart.

"I missed you too, pup," replied Sirius, ruffling the teen's hair affectionately.

"Hey Prof—um, I mean Remus," greeted Harry, correcting himself as the werewolf pulled a face at almost being called by his former title.

"Hello Harry," said Remus, grinning once again.

"And now that we have the formalities taken care of, let us get down to business," stated Dumbledore, conjuring extra chairs to accommodate the three. "Earlier, Harry, you asked what would happen now that Voldemort has returned. I told you that darker days were ahead of us and offered you a chance to prepare. You accepted and here we are."

Harry nodded and waited for him to continue.

"Before we get to that, there is a very important piece of information that you must be made aware of. Do you remember at the end of your first year, after the incident with the Philosopher's Stone, in the Hospital Wing when you asked me why Voldemort had gone after you?" When Harry nodded in confirmation, he continued, "I did not tell you the truth back then. I had hoped to keep this hidden from you until you had at least finished Hogwarts and had had a chance at a somewhat normal childhood while here at school. However, many unexpected events have happened since your arrival here not so many years ago and you have proved time and time again that you have the fortitude and will power to overcome any obstacle, even in the face of great adversity. With Voldemort's return, it is only right that I reveal this truth to you now."

"And what exactly is that truth, sir?" asked Harry curiously.

"There was a prophecy," answered Dumbledore. "If you'd like to hear exactly what it says later, I'll be more than glad to provide you the memory as it was foretold in my presence. However, for the sake of this conversation and in order to keep the ball rolling, I will simply tell you the details. It spoke of a child born at the end of July, born to parents who had thrice defied him. Two children were found to fit the description: you yourself and Neville Longbottom. However, the prophecy continued on to say that the child would have a power the dark lord did not know, and that he would be marked as his equal…which would be your scar."

Harry reached a slightly shaky hand up and pushed away his bangs, tracing lightly the lightning bolt etched into his skin. The scar was the cause for all his troubles, and for a moment, he wished that it hadn't been him. But as he continued to think things through, he realized that it could have been poor Neville instead. This was a fate he could not wish upon even his most hated rival—even though Draco Malfoy was the biggest prat in existence—and so, with a heavy heart, he accepted the burden that was placed upon his young shoulders. "So basically…that means I'm the only one that can defeat him?" he asked.

"I'm afraid so, my boy," replied the Headmaster solemnly.

The suddenly very tired Gryffindor sighed and nodded. "Okay, so you've told me why I've been targeted by Voldemort…what happens next?"

"There is more to the story that you will have to know in order to defeat Tom Riddle, but I believe that for now, training you for the inevitable battle between the two of you takes precedence over it. While he has returned, it will still take quite some time for him to gain the sort of power and following he had back then, during the first war. He will remain in the shadows for now, gathering his resources and building his army. Therefore, in the next following months, it will be your first priority to train your mind, body and magic in order to undertake the grievous task of destroying him. I shall eventually test you on what you have learned, and if I find your performance satisfactory, I shall divulge in you the knowledge needed to truly defeat Voldemort once and for all. Now before you argue," he said, holding up a hand, "know that I do this because I want you to be fully focused on your learning. When I believe that you are proficient enough with what you will be taught, then and only then will I give you the information that you seek."

"Listen to Dumbledore," interjected Sirius, speaking for the first time since Dumbledore's speech began. "You've got a tough road ahead of you and the less distractions, the better. If you're so eager to know what it is, use that as motivation to learn quicker and train harder."

"Sirius is right," agreed Remus, placing a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "He and I have much to teach you and we have many things planned for the next few months. You'll need all the motivation that you can get."

"You and Sirius?" asked Harry, looking at the two Marauders and then towards Dumbledore for confirmation.

"Yes, he and Sirius," said the Headmaster. "I have chosen them to train you for a number of reasons, though mainly it is because they are very well qualified and you are both familiar with the two and comfortable in their presence."

"Makes sense," said Harry, agreeing with the statement. "Does this mean I won't be attending Hogwarts anymore…?"

"Unfortunately yes," answered Sirius, taking over for the older wizard. "When we say no distractions, we mean no distractions. Before I was arrested I was an Auror, along with your father. Remus would have joined the Corps as well, if not for his lycanthropy and the prejudices against him. We'll run you through a mock training course for Aurors, which lasts approximately a year. Don't worry about your schooling; everything we cover will be beyond anything the teachers here could ever hope to be allowed to teach you, and Dumbledore will most certainly be able to pull a few strings in order for you to take your OWL exams next year, along with your NEWT exams if we're ever gone that long."

"What about my friends? I didn't tell them a single thing when I went back to the dorms," said Harry, blushing only slightly as he remembered what he'd done to Hermione. "I'm assuming that after all that's been said tonight, I won't be able to say goodbye or contact them while I'm away."

"If you wish, I will allow a brief meeting for you to say your farewells, but you cannot tell them where you are going or why," replied Dumbledore.

"Then I'll forgo the goodbyes," Harry replied, letting out a soft sigh. "It was bad enough not telling them anything earlier, but now that I'm preparing to set off for Merlin knows how long, I don't think I'll be able to keep it together…"

"That's quite understandable. If you'd like to avoid another confrontation, I can have an elf pack your things and bring them here."

"I'd really appreciate that, sir."

"Very well then," said the elderly wizard, as he clapped his hands and a very familiar looking elf appeared beside him. "Dobby, would you be so kind as to gather young Harry's belongings and bring them here?"

The ever overexcited elf smiled a wide, toothy grin and saluted the old Headmaster before disappearing with an almost inaudible pop, reappearing a minute later, looking a little frazzled as he clutched Harry's trunk to his body. "The great Harry Potter's Grangey put up a fight when Dobby went to grab your things," he said, swaying slightly as he shook off the minor adrenaline rush he'd experienced when Hermione spotted him taking the trunk and all but flung herself at him.

The four men chuckled lightly as the image of a frenzied Hermione came to mind. "Thank you, Dobby," said Harry, patting the elf gently on the head he relieved him of his heavy burden.

"Dobby, I have one more task for you," began Dumbledore, before the elf could teleport away. "Harry, Sirius, and Remus will be going on a long journey and will need someone to help take care of them. I would also ask that you act as a messenger, so as to make communication between us quick and efficient."

"I will do it, sir!" exclaimed Dobby ecstatically, running around the desk to hug the wizard's leg. "I will do anything to help the great Harry Potter and his friends! Oh thank you Mr. Headmaster, sir!"

Dumbledore smiled warmly and kindly squeezed his shoulder, while simultaneously trying to gently pry the tiny elf off his knee. It was an odd and somewhat awkward situation having the creature wrapped so tightly about his calf and it was with some effort that he finally got Dobby to let go. Ignoring the mischievous grins on the three younger wizards' faces, he coughed and popped a lemon drop into his mouth to fill the uncomfortable silence. "So where were we?" he asked, after a moment.

"I believe you asked Dobby to join us on our training expedition," supplied Remus, still grinning cheekily.

"Yes, of course," said Dumbledore, shuffling random papers on his desk. "Now, Harry, as you know, the Triwizard Tournament was an adult only competition. You were entered illegally and underage, but by accepting your role as a participant you were emancipated and recognized as an adult in the wizarding world. Because of this, you no longer have to worry about being caught and disciplined for underage magic while training."

"Wait what, I'm an adult now?" asked an incredulous Harry. "When were you going to tell me this?"

The bearded wizard had the decency to look ashamed. "I had not planned on telling you, for fear you might abuse your powers in retribution against your relatives…"

Harry stared, aghast at his Headmaster. "You were going to _lie_ to me?"

Before a giant argument could break out, Remus, always the clever and more thoughtful of the bunch, intervened. "Harry, it was wrong of Dumbledore to lie to you, but you must understand he had his reasons. Although he is perceived by many to be the greatest wizard of our time he is still only human and fully capable of making human mistakes. Because of certain circumstances, he has told you the truth of the matter and what could have happened if he hadn't is neither here nor there. Don't you think there are far more important things to discuss anyway?"

The young Potter grumbled his agreement and slumped in his chair, still not completely happy with the matter. But Remus had a point and he'd rather not leave Hogwarts on a bad note with his Headmaster. "Fine," he murmured. "But what's that mean, now that I'm an adult; besides being able to do magic freely?"

"For one, you can now claim Head of House status and gain access to your family vaults," spoke Sirius, intimately familiar with the workings of family obligation, having grown up in a pureblood family, as well as having been heir to and now Head of the House of Black. "Along with that, you are allowed to take your seat in Wizengamot, as leader of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, and you may also take charge of whatever family estates and businesses your family owns."

"Didn't I already have access to my vault though?" asked Harry, brows furrowing in confusion.

"No, that was merely the trust vault your parents set aside to get you through Hogwarts if anything were ever to happen to them," his godfather answered.

"Oh…"

"If I may interrupt, you will have plenty of time to sort through the business associated with Harry's ascension to Head status later. I suggest, perhaps, you visit Gringotts tomorrow to get everything sorted. However, there is still much for us to discuss here," said Dumbledore. For the remainder of the evening, the four men talked out their plans and set a timeline for the following year to come.

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><p>Harry slumped tiredly into his bed, barely managing to toss his glasses onto the nightstand before his head hit the pillow. It was nearing 1AM and the three of them—them being him, Sirius, and Remus—had just checked into a suite at the Leaky Cauldron. They had many things to do the following morning, much of which was in Diagon Alley, and it was their best choice to stay at Tom's tavern for the night. Their small suite was divided into two rooms, Sirius and Remus opting to share a room in order to give Harry the privacy he so greatly needed in order to sort out his thoughts on what had happened that day.<p>

Although he was beyond exhausted, the young teen's mind raced at a mile a minute, attempting to process too much, too fast. Outside in the dead of night, it was dark and gloomy, not a sound to be heard. As he shut his eyes to the blurred image of his moonlit bedroom, the only thing he could hear was the angry shout of, "_Kill the spare!_" and the whooshing sound of Wormtail's killing curse as it sailed by, slamming into Cedric's chest before he slumped to the floor with hollow thud. He silenced a pained groan as he thought of his fellow Champion, guilt eating away at him. The look of stunned horror on the Diggory boy's face, seconds before he was killed, would forever haunt Harry and the expression of utter sorrow on Cedric's father's face when they returned was not something he'd easily forget.

Wanting to forget the tragic memory for now, Harry pushed away the images and turned his thoughts towards his friends. What were they doing now, he wondered. Were they able to sleep or were they still up, worriedly awaiting his return…he'd never know. He grimaced slightly as he thought of his last moment with them, internally berating himself for kissing Hermione like that? What in the _world_ had possessed him to _do_ such a thing? Surely now, she hated him, stealing from her what he knew to be her first kiss. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all, being away for a year or so. Hopefully that was enough time for her to calm down and let go of her anger.

Unbeknownst to him, in the quiet castle that was once his home, Hermione sat beside the fireplace and stared worriedly into the dying embers. Beside her lay Ron, passed out in a pile of pillows, having fallen asleep in wait for Harry's return. She sighed quietly and wiped away a stray tear, unwilling to let her worry get the better of her. It had been many long—painstakingly long—hours since Harry had left them in the 4th year boys' dormitory and not a word from their friend had been heard. She blushed and gently traced a finger over her lips, remembering the way his lips felt against hers as he placed a soft, chaste kiss against them before departing. "_I should have asked you to the Yule Ball first_," he had said, and her heart gave a small flutter at what he might have been implying. But why had he said so, now, all of a sudden and not back then after the fiasco that was their winter dance.

She shook her head and rubbed her face tiredly. It was all so confusing! Why had he kissed her? More importantly, why hadn't he come back yet? Where was he? She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out in frustration, turning her head to stare restlessly out the window at the bright moon illuminating the night sky.

'_Wherever you are, Harry, come back soon…_'

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><p>And that's it for now! I hope you enjoyed the story so far, and I'd really appreciate it if you could leave a review! Thanks again for taking the time to read this!<p>

**REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

Hey everyone! Thanks for all the reviews last time and I'm really glad you're all enjoying it so far. Just to let you all know beforehand, in case you were expecting it, this is not a story about bashing characters. Sometimes, certain people can be misled in their beliefs and it will of course be, eventually, laid out before them and they will be made to see the error of their ways. But in no way will a character be outright bashed, villanized, or presented as evil and manipulative, unless that person is Voldemort or someone actually evil in canon. Just thought I'd get that out of the way.

Also, for anyone following my story _Hybrid_, I let my idiot friend borrow the flashdrive I'd saved the files on and he deleted them, thinking I had actually given it to him. So right now, not in the mood to re-write any chapters or outline that story again. Don't expect an update from it for awhile. I need to re-watch everything that had given me inspiration for it before I even think of moving on.

Anyway, onto the story!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

A bright flash of hauntingly green light; Harry awoke with a start. Breathing heavily, the dark haired teen pushed himself onto his elbows and reached over towards the nightstand, hand reaching out into the hazy darkness until they found the cool metal of his wire-rimmed glasses. Taking a hold of his glasses, he cleaned the lenses with his shirt before placing them on his face, the room finally coming into focus. Shaking the cobwebs of sleep out of his head, Harry turned back towards the nightstand to glance at the clock. It read 6:23am. Frowning at the thought of only getting five hours of sleep, he knew that he'd be unable to fall back asleep now that he was awake. Deciding it was fruitless to simply lay there in the semi-dark the young Gryffindor threw off his covers and slipped out of bed.

"Good morning, Mr. Harry Potter sir!" exclaimed Dobby, suddenly popping into existence. "Mr. Padfoot and Mr. Moony are already up, and has ordered Dobby to tell you they are downstairs in the bar. They says you must shower and meet them for breakfast after you've woken."

"Thanks Dobby," muttered Harry, stifling a yawn as he pushed through his trunk for a clean outfit.

"Dobby has already turned on the water for your shower," said the elf, waiting obediently by his side.

"Mhm thanks," Harry replied, still too sleepy to properly respond. Patting the house elf on his wool-cap covered head, Harry walked past him and into the bathroom where the shower was already warm and running. Stripping out of his pajamas, he stepped into the water and let out a content sigh. That sigh, however, turned into a strangled cry of surprise as the warm water suddenly turned ice cold before reverting back.

"Mr. Padfoot also said to make sure you was properly awake," called Dobby through the door.

"…t-thanks Dobby…" stammered Harry through gritted teeth, hugging his body. "I-I'm okay now…tell Sirius and Remus…I'll be…I'll be down in a second."

Afraid the tiny elf would change his water to cold again Harry hurried through his shower and stepped out, drying and changing into his clothes. When he was cleaned up and ready to go, he opened the door to their room and walked out into the old, worn down hallway and made his way to the stairs. The rotted wooden steps creaked beneath his feet as he descended to the bottom floor, greeting the old barman as he came into the main room. Tom smiled toothlessly and waved, nodding in the direction of a private dining room as he wiped down a glass. Saying a quiet "thank you," Harry followed the instruction and slid open the door to the private booth before shutting it behind him.

"G'morning, pup!" said Sirius cheerily, raising a mug of coffee in greeting. Beside him sat Remus, who smiled and nodded in acknowledgment.

"G'morning, Sirius. G'morning, Remus," replied Harry, taking an empty seat at the table. "What's on the agenda for today?"

"Well, first things first, we have breakfast," answered Remus, handing him a menu. "After that, we have an appointment scheduled with the Potter Family vault manager at Gringotts around 8 o'clock. Following the meeting, we'll be going shopping for a number of things. There is much you'll need to learn while we're away and having a full stock of supplies and material is the best way to ensure your training goes on with as little interruptions as possible. We'll also make a stop at a Muggle mall to buy you some proper clothing. Finally, we'll end your day with a visit to St. Mungo's."

"St. Mungo's?" asked Harry curiously, looking up from his menu.

"Yes, you're quite short and underweight for a boy your age, and your parents, while not too tall, were still above average height. There's no reason you should be this small, and we believe it was do your lack of proper nourishment while you were younger. If it weren't for the meals at Hogwarts, I'm almost certain you'd be several inches shorter than you are now," said Sirius, gripping his mug as he angrily thought of his godson's relatives.

"At St. Mungo's, they'll put you through a full physical and can run a number of diagnostics on you to see just how bad things really are," continued Remus. "Once they find out the extent of the damage, they can supply you with a regiment of nourishment, growth, and hormone potions to help you catch up."

Harry nodded in understanding, blushing slightly as his stomach suddenly gave a long, drawn out rumble. "All right, now, how do we order? And Sirius, shouldn't you be hiding?"

"Nah, Tom is on our side," replied the fugitive, grinning. "And we cast a few privacy spells and whatnot to ensure any unwanted visitors stay away from our dining booth. As for ordering, just tap the item you want with the tip of your wand."

Taking his wand, Harry did as he was instructed, tapping a few items on the menu as he looked it over. Only a short minute later, a hot plate of food appeared before him, ladled with sausages, fried eggs, potato cakes, and a few grilled tomatoes. Grabbing an empty glass, he poured himself a cold drink of pumpkin juice from the pitcher already on the table. After Sirius and Remus placed and received their own orders, he eagerly dug into his meal.

"Make sure you get plenty to eat," said Sirius, between bites of baked beans. "As you know, we'll be quite busy today and depending on how long the meeting at Gringotts is, we might not get out until past noon."

"Speaking of busy, there's also another thing we must add to our to-do list," said Remus, after swallowing a bit of toast. "You'll need a haircut. If we're doing the whole mock Auror boot camp thing, then we might as well make it as real as possible. Besides, it is getting rather shaggy."

Harry frowned and rubbed the back of his neck, automatically fingering the dark, messy locks of hair that now hung almost to his shoulders. He supposed a haircut was in order, but exactly how short were they going to make it? If he didn't like it, he'd probably unconsciously grow it back with his magic, like he did when Aunt Petunia trimmed it during his childhood. Most likely they'd make him cut it again, so he only hoped he'd be able to keep himself under control.

"I remember the day I went in for boot camp," chuckled Sirius, shaking his head mirthfully at the memory. "I tried to be a smart ass and told the barber, 'A little off the sides.' Well, he did just that. Shaved off the hair on the sides and left the rest of my hair as it was. I had to go back to the end of the line and stand with my hair in such a mess…your father couldn't stop laughing at me Harry."

Harry smiled against his glass as he took a long gulp, washing down the last bites of food with pumpkin juice. He loved hearing stories about his father, especially from Sirius. The more stories he heard, the more he got a full picture of what James Potter had been like as a person. When all three had finished their meals, Sirius laid out a few galleons on the table and transformed into a dog, scratching at the door for someone to open it.

"Money is on the table, Tom," said Remus, as he opened the door and walked out. "We'll be back tonight."

"Have a nice day," replied the barman, pulling out his wand and flicking it towards their now empty dining room, banishing the plates to the kitchen and summoning the gold into his hands.

Upon entering Diagon Alley, Harry lifted his wrist to check the time, only to remember he no longer had a watch. "If we have time, do you think we could stop someplace that sells watches?" he asked, shoving Sirius aside, who was barking and chasing birds and running around them in circles.

"I believe there's a watch shop a few stores down from Flourish and Blotts," Remus replied. "We can make a small detour there if you wish."

"Thanks."

As they entered through the ornate gates of Gringotts, Remus guided Harry to a teller and checked in for their appointment. The goblin then escorted them to a small waiting room, where they were met by another, somewhat familiar looking goblin. He introduced himself as Griphook, and Harry immediately recognized him as the goblin that had helped him first year. Allowing themselves to be led into his office, Remus and Harry took a seat while Sirius curled up on the floor, resting his chin on his godson's foot.

"Firstly, before we officially begin, I will need a small sample of blood from Mr. Potter to ensure he is who he says he is," said Griphook, taking out an ornate looking knife and bowl. Handing the knife to Harry, he motioned for him what to do, who slit his palm over the bowl and allowed a small trickle of blood to seep down into it. As the thick, red drops of liquid touched the bowl, the incision on his hand sealed itself as the bowl gave off a golden glow. "Thank you, Mr. Potter."

Harry handed back the knife and inspected his hand, opening and closing it as he looked it over.

"Now that we have that out of the way, we will start with a summary of your current assets." Pulling out a thick manila folder from beneath his desk, Griphook handed it to Harry, who opened it for him and Remus to read. "In the case of their deaths, James and Lily Potter set up a trust fund in order to get you through Hogwarts. Hogwarts tuition is roughly two hundred and twenty five Galleons a year and the amount is automatically deducted every September first. Along with school funding, they left a substantial amount of money for personal spending; the total equaling eighteen thousand five hundred Galleons, fifteen Sickles, and twenty one Knuts."

Harry gave a low whistle as he heard the amount of money left in his vault; he knew he had a lot, but when it was all added together like that, it seemed like more than he could ever wish for. Coming from basically nothing and finding out just how much money he had was an odd feeling, something he would definitely have to get accustomed to.

"Now, as you've been legally emancipated upon acceptance of your Triwizard Tournament participation, you are allowed access to the full Potter Family vaults. Along with your trust vault, you have your parents' personal vaults and then the ancient vaults containing the entirety of your family's fortune. Starting with your parents' vaults, your mother and father had a large joint account, along with smaller individual accounts for their own personal belongings. As I'm sure you are aware, James and Lily had well-paying jobs, your father a Captain Auror and your mother a Head Healer. Their joint account, supplied only with money earned from work, totals one million eight hundred ninety four Galleons, eleven Sickles, and four Knuts. In their personal vaults, they stored a number of journals, books, and other personal items."

At hearing this, Harry nearly fell out of his seat. He was a millionaire? Remus smiled and patted him on the back, Sirius lifting his head and licking at his leg soothingly. He thought having several thousand Galleons was a lot, but millions? He held a hand over his chest in an attempt to still his rapidly beating heart, while at the same time bracing himself for what was about to come next. If his parents had gained that much money in their short lifetime of working, how much money would several generations have earned?

"Do you need a moment, Mr. Potter?" asked Griphook, looking up from his own copy of the file.

"No...No, I'm good," replied Harry, running a shaky hand through his hair. "Please, continue."

"As you wish," he said, reading once more from the paper. "Lastly, we have your family vaults. As the amount of money and belongings were too large to contain to one vault, they were split into three, two containing several piles of currency, while the last was strictly designated for family heirlooms and the likes. Combining the amount of money in your cash vaults, the total comes to ninety six million, eight hundred thousand forty seven Galleons, eight Sickles, and twenty five Knuts."

"Bloody hell," he murmured, burying his face in his hands.

"Combining the money from all your accounts, you have ninety eight million, six hundred eighteen thousand and six hundred forty one Galleons, thirty four Sickles, and fifty Knuts. In muggle currency, that is £493,093,215.51."

"Bloody hell," Harry repeated, too stunned to believe what he was hearing. He was loaded! Rich beyond even comprehension! Suddenly, he felt extremely underdressed in his three sizes too big hand-me-downs and sat back up, pulling off his glasses and rubbing his face tiredly.

"There is also the matter of your inheritance of the Black Family vaults," said Griphook, pulling out another file. "Due to your godfather, Sirius Black, being imprisoned, and because he has sired no children, you were designated in his will as the family heir should he ever be unable to perform his duties as Head."

Harry shot a look at the shaggy black dog at his feet, who gave a nod of confirmation before settling back down. Taking a deep breath, he nodded and motioned for Griphook to continue. Nearly dying the night before, kissing Hermione, learning he was a multi-millionaire; sure, why not add another family inheritance into the mix? It'd be a test to see how many near-heart attacks he could survive in one 24-hour period.

Another few hours later, a mentally exhausted Harry walked out of Gringotts, followed closely by Remus, who had his hand on the boy's shoulder, and Sirius, still in dog form. After hearing the amount of money Sirius had passed onto him, he was positive that he, nor his family for several generations to come, would ever have to work a day in their life. Along with the money, he had inherited a number of Potter and Black family properties, as well as stocks invested in a number of different companies. Although he was now Head of the Black family, he had filled out a form allowing Sirius full access to his family's vaults as well as the option of taking over in the case of his innocence proven. Along with that, he had opened a new account for a very reluctant Remus, depositing a generous amount of money as "pay" for training him. He'd also placed a few thousand Galleons into the Weasley's vault anonymously; Gringotts assuring him that they would never find out it was from him.

"After all that, how about a bite to eat," suggested Remus, nodding his head in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron.

"That'd be great," said Harry tiredly, trudging down the street towards the bar. Upon entering, Tom nodded in the direction of the room they had eaten in for breakfast, letting him know it was free. Waving at the older wizard, the exhausted Gryffindor pulled the door open and plopped down into his seat as his two companions followed. Once the door was safely closed and Remus had cast the appropriate spells, Sirius transformed back and sat beside him, pulling him into a one armed hug.

"How are you feeling, kiddo?" he asked, rubbing his godson's head comfortingly.

"It's so much to take in," the teen replied, his voice muffled against Sirius' chest. "I have all this money…but I grew up with nothing. _Nothing_. I barely know what to do with it all…"

"Well, you could do what most people normally do and spend it," replied Sirius, grinning playfully. "I can hardly say our shopping trip later today will put even a dent in it, but it's a start. And once you get rid of old Moldyshorts," at this he received an amused smile from Harry, "you can spend the rest of it living life like a rock star. Buy a nice, fancy mansion or have one of the family estates cleaned and remodeled; sleep all day and party all night; travel the world and meet some exotic girl, marry her, then bring her back to good ole' Britain and have lots and lots of baby Potters to spend your millions on!"

"Oh, and I suppose I shouldn't forget to send you to a nice retirement home, right?" said Harry, smirking. "After all, family always comes first, and I'd never forget about my dear old godfather."

"I'd be so touched," said Sirius, wiping away a fake tear. "Did you hear that Remus? He's going to send me to a retirement home!"

"We'll be sure to visit you," replied the werewolf, chuckling.

Feeling much better about the situation, Harry continued to banter back and forth with his godfather and honorary uncle, once again enjoying his meal amongst the closest thing he'd ever get to a family.

* * *

><p>"How many books are we getting?" asked Harry, placing yet another thick tome into their basket. As Remus grabbed another text and browsed through it, he silently thanked whatever god was out there for magic, as the store's book baskets were charmed to hold several dozen books and still feel light weight.<p>

"Just a few more," mumbled Remus, closing the book and handing it to him. "We've got several books for each of your core subjects: Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Defense…no sense in getting anything on Divination, what a load of crock! Hmm…we got the advanced defense books, as well as combat magic…what else…"

"I think we have enough," Harry replied, peering into their basket.

"No, no…we're not done yet," said Remus thoughtfully, perusing through the different sections. "Oh, yes, you'll need a book or two on Ancient Runes and Arithmancy…just the basics of course!" He tapped his chin and looked around before lighting up and rushing off to another section of the store. "Aha! Yes, you'll need these as well," he said, dumping _A-Z Guide of Magical Creatures_ and _Herbert's Book of Magical Herbs and How to Use Them_ into the basket as Harry followed.

"Why would I need these?"

"Voldemort is recruiting non-humans as well. It'll be good for you to be able to recognize and identify a magical creature should you come across one. That way, you'll have a better understanding on how to deal with one. As for the herbs, it will help you understand Potions better, as well as provide knowledge of natural, on-the go remedies in case you're ever in need of emergency medical attention."

As the older wizard went off once more, no doubt in search of more books, Harry suddenly wished he was an animagus like Sirius and could wait outside, since animals weren't allowed into the shop. Remus was proving to be another Hermione when it came to the bookstore, and he wondered just how much this would all cost—not that it really mattered, but he was betting they were pushing at least a hundred Galleons. Pushing that thought aside, he went back to the thought of being an animagus and decided he had a few of his own book choices to add to their pile.

Fifteen or so minutes later, the two wizards exited the bookstore, only to find Sirius asleep on a nearby bench. Smiling, Harry walked over and pat his godfather on the head to awaken him and pointed towards the watch shop. Knowing that he wouldn't be allowed inside, the dog-man snorted and put his head back down, nuzzling his snout beneath an old paper until his head was fully beneath it, shielding his eyes from the bright afternoon sun. Shaking his head with a grin, Harry left Sirius alone and caught up with Remus, who was standing in the watchmaker's open doorway.

"Hello, Mr. Potter. I am Mr. Goldstein," said the owner, walking over and sticking out a hand as he introduced himself. After shaking hands with Harry, and then Remus, Goldstein walked back beneath his counter to allow the teen a look around. "Anything in particular that you're looking for?" he asked, attempting to be helpful.

"Well, a watch most obviously, but I think I'd be interested in something more than just a basic watch, like my old one was. I'd like something a bit sturdier, most definitely water-proof, and something that can withstand getting knocked around a lot," explained Harry, as he looked closely at the numerous selections before him.

"Ah, yes," said Goldstein, leading Harry with his hand to another part of his store. "I think we've all heard about the many adventures you've gotten yourself into while at Hogwarts; especially that tidbit in the paper this morning about your involvement with the Triwizard Tournament this past year. You-Know-Who is alive? As much as I would not like to believe it, I trust Albus Dumbledore's word far more than I do the Minister's and the Daily Prophet's."

Harry winced as he listened to the watchmaker talk, the memory of all that had happened still too fresh in his mind. He nodded along politely, grimacing as Cedric's death was mentioned, and attempted to distract himself by looking at more watches. Eying a few, thick, leather-banded wristwatches, he pointed at the collection and asked to know more about them.

"Oh, yes, of course Mr. Potter." Opening the glass container, Goldstein pulled out the ones Harry and pointed at and laid them out in front of him. "These are rather expensive and popular amongst the wealthier Aurors and Curse Breakers, but well worth their price. They also come with a life-time warranty so any repairs needed to be done will cost you nothing but a few minutes of your time. The wristbands, as you can see is rather thick and heavy, but they're made from dragon hide, which is a very sturdy and reliable material. It is also charmed as an anti-perspirent and keeps cool no matter how long you wear it. The watch itself is modeled after one those muggle…uh…I think they call it "digital" watches? Instead of having to read the clock hands, it is charmed to simply display the time, along with current date. There are a few extra, special features that come with it. You see these two buttons here? Press this button, and it will magically display a compass. And this button? Oh, it's definitely one of my favorites."

Harry watched curiously as Goldstein gently tapped the button and the face of the watch disappeared, only to be replaced with a small mirror. Behind him, he heard Remus give a small noise of recognition, and his curiosity multiplied tenfold. "It's a mirror, sir," he said, reaching out to touch the glass. "Well, I suppose it'll help if I ever need to check my hair…"

Goldstein chuckled and handed him the watch before pulling up his sleeve to reveal a similar watch wrapped around his wrist. "Go to that corner and say 'Robert Goldstein.' You'll see that it's much more than just a mirror."

Shrugging his shoulders, the raven haired teen took the watch and walked off to the other side of the store, where he had been instructed to go. Looking at the mirror, he called out Goldstein's name and was surprised as his face appeared before him. The old watchman laughed and waved, clearly amused at the shocked expression on young Harry's face. Looking back and forth between Mr. Goldstein in the mirror, and Mr. Goldstein on the other side of the room, Harry was becoming increasingly more interested as time passed by. Walking back to the counter, he set it down.

"What was that?" he asked, already fingering the money in his pocket.

"That was a two-way mirror that I installed onto the underside of the watches," Goldstein explained, rolling his sleeve back down. "You can communicate with anyone who has one of these watches, or one of those types of mirrors. You simply state their name and the mirror will gently vibrate to let them know someone is trying to reach them. To accept the request, tap this button," he pointed at a third button, on the left side of the watch, "and they'll be let through. If you don't answer after about thirty seconds, it will stop vibrating."

"Anything else I should know about the watch?" asked Harry excitedly. Now he understood why Aunt Petunia and Dudley loved buying new things so much. It was rather nice, getting something that wasn't a half-broken hand-me-down.

"Aside from that, it has been magically charmed and protected to be water proof and fire proof, and is resistant to most slicing, crushing, explosive, and bludgeoning spells. It can withstand up to a one hundred foot drop and is, for the most part, indestructible."

"How much for three?"

"Three, Mr. Potter? One alone costs two hundred Galleons and you'd never need to have any extra as backup. As I said, indestructible," replied Goldstein, shocked at the boy's request. He sold many of his more expensive watches to rich purebloods and high leveled Ministry officials, but never to a fifteen year old boy. And he wanted three!

"Well, one for me, one for Remus, and one for my other…instructor," answered Harry, pulling out the bank card Gringotts had provided him for larger purchases. "And I might come back next year to buy two more, for some friends," he added. He wanted to buy one for Ron and Hermione now, so that he could communicate with them, but he had been instructed to keep distractions at a minimum once training started, and he knew that if he gave it to them at this time, he would lose focus.

Goldstein clutched his chest as he thought of the day's profit. Six hundred Galleons and it was only 3 o'clock in the afternoon! Why even wait until 7 o'clock to close? Picking out three watches, he charmed a spray bottle and soft cloth to polish them clean while he accepted Harry's card and rang up the bill. "Would you like me to wrap these up for you, Mr. Potter?" he asked, handing back the card and a slip of parchment for him to sign.

"I'll wear mine out," Harry replied, signing the receipt with a quill. "Remus? Do you want yours wrapped or will you wear it too?"

"I think I'll wear mine as well, thank you," replied the older man, fidgeting in slight discomfort at the thought of how generous Harry was being with his money. First the new account, and then an expensive watch…? He swore that in their upcoming year of training, he'd make sure Harry was prepared to do more than just survive. Harry was only fifteen and practically taking care of him; he would make sure he took care of Harry as well, like he should have from the very beginning.

"Just wrap the last one then, please," said Harry, securing his new watch around his left wrist as Remus did the same. "Thanks a lot, Mr. Goldstein!" Waving goodbye to the shopkeeper, Harry grabbed the last watch—placed in a black, gold trimmed box—and exited the store. Sirius, being the lazy dog that he was, was still asleep on the bench and so they walked past him to continue their supply shopping, Remus "accidentally" scaring a flock of birds to fly in the direction of his slumbering friend.

The terrified yelp was music to the aged Marauder's ears.

* * *

><p>"Feeling okay, Harry?" asked Sirius, as the door to their room closed behind him.<p>

Harry awkwardly walked around the room, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes every now and then. "I feel weird," the Potter boy mumbled, looking around, as if he was seeing everything brand new, for the very first time.

"Well, the Healers said it would take some time for you to adjust," stated Remus, unshrinking their bags from today. "It's a good thing we didn't have time to go clothes shopping before your appointment at St. Mungo's. You only took the first set of potions, and you've already seemed to fill out a bit. You can't do anything strenuous for the next week while you're still taking your potions, not to mention the forced growth spurt you'll be going through is going to hurt. In that case, we'll be doing mostly theory for the next month, while you adjust to your new body. We'll buy you a few new clothes for now, just to wear around inside, but I'm afraid you'll outgrow them soon. How are your eyes, by the way?"

Harry sighed and rubbed his now glasses-free eyes, still adjusting to having them gone. They'd performed a small, hour long procedure to permanently correct the damage done to his eyes, which was far worse than it should have been, most likely due to poor nutrition as a child and being repeatedly exposed to the pitch black of his cupboard and the sudden, blinding bright light of the outside world. He had thought his glasses were great, allowing him to see things other than blurs, but his "new" eyes gave him such a clear, sharp, detailed view of the world around him and he wondered just how much of it he had missed in the past. Still, his face felt somewhat naked without the weight of his glasses settled onto his nose, but it wasn't something he couldn't get used to.

"I'll live," he answered, walking to the window and opening it. Outside, the moon had replaced the sun in the sky, and he couldn't help but stare in awe at its radiant beauty. A white dot unexpectedly appeared just beyond the horizon, its shape taking a familiar form the closer it got. "Hedwig!" he cried, happy to see his owl. With all that had happened today and the day before, he was ashamed to admit he had forgotten about her, but he was glad that she had found him.

"Looks like she has a letter for you," said Sirius, watching as the snowy white owl flew through the window and landed on the table. "Who is it from?"

"Oh no…it's from Hermione," groaned Harry, spotting her handwriting on the envelope.

"We'll let you read in peace then," said Remus, levitating the packages into the room he shared with Sirius. "C'mon Padfoot, we'll sort these out in here."

"Want something to drink, Hedwig?" asked Harry, setting down the letter for a moment to take care of his beloved pet. Digging through his pockets, he pulled out a wrapper from a candy he had eaten earlier and transfigured it into a small bowl, walking into the bathroom to fill it with water. As he set the bowl in front of her, Hedwig gave a fairly angry hoot, nipping his finger and staring pointedly at the letter.

Harry immediately got the message that Hermione was most likely quite frustrated with him and stroked Hedwig atop the head. "Okay, okay…I get it," he said, taking the letter and walking into his own room. "I'll read it."

Propping his pillows up against the headboard, Harry sat on his bed and leaned back against them, nervously unfolding the parchment. Taking a deep breath, he opened it fully and read:

_Dear Harry,_

_I hardly know where to begin, but I suppose I'll start with the most basic question: where are you? No one has seen you since yesterday, and rumors are that you've left the castle and won't be coming back! After spotting Dobby taking your trunk, I fear the rumors are true. Have you left Hogwarts, Harry? I know things have gotten difficult and so much more complicated, but you really can't just run away like that! I stand by what I said the other evening; you need us to help you get through this, and you can't just push us away. _

_I can still hardly believe that you kissed me. I know you wanted me stop nagging you, but to take a girl's first kiss like that? Be glad that you're my best friend; otherwise I would have punched you like I did Malfoy last year. Regardless, we will be talking about it when you get back. You __**are**__ coming back, aren't you? You better, or so help me god, I will hunt you down and drag you back if I must! _

_Sorry for using Hedwig, by the way. I would have used a school owl or Pig, but Hedwig is your owl and I knew if anyone could find you, it would be her. And if you're reading this letter, then it's safe to say I was right._

_I'll cut this letter short, in fear that a long, written out lecture might push you even further away. But please, just know that __I__...we all love you and support you. So come back Harry, please. Please don't do this, whatever it is you're doing. Don't do it. Come back, please._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Harry stared down at the letter, the guilt he'd forced himself to push down coming back with full strength. It had barely been a day and he already missed his friends…Hermione and Ron; Ginny, Fred and George; his dorm mates Seamus, Dean, Neville; everyone on the quidditch team. He had just seen them all yesterday and it already felt like a lifetime. Letting out a tired groan, he covered his face with the letter and shut his eyes.

'_It's for them_,' he told himself, sighing. '_Everything. Leaving Hogwarts, my training, whatever quest Dumbledore has for me to defeat Voldemort…I can't let what happened to Cedric happen ever again, not to them. Not to anyone. It's for them,' _he repeated_. 'It's all for them…'_

* * *

><p>In the words of Porky the Pig, "Th-th-that's all folks!" For now, anyway. <strong>Please leave a review. I write 5k words of story, and all I ask for in return is that you write a short 1-2 sentence review. Fair enough, right?<strong>

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